


Dreams of Darkness

by Vyranai



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: And pretty much are in a relationship built on hate, Darklina - Freeform, Darklina are married, F/M, Future Fic, Mal is dead, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oneshot, Smut, The Darkling won, Throne Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 21:11:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15203552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vyranai/pseuds/Vyranai
Summary: Alina reflects on her shadowy marriage to the Darkling.--The Darkling won every war and Alina is the reluctant Queen to his King.





	Dreams of Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> I found this deep in a Google Docs folder from 2015/6 when I was deep in Darklina hell. Thought it was about time it saw the light!
> 
> I'm trash. This is trash omg.

The day had already gone to hell, and it was barely nine.

    Her arm burned from where the blundering maid had lost her grip on her breakfast tray, causing both hot liquid and food to spill onto her queen. Alina made no attempt to order the guards that dragged the sobbing maid away to be gentle. Nor did she allow anyone near her but a Healer.

    Things got worse when she pulled on her dress and found a hole in her sleeve, as if it had caught somehow. Huge, gaping and ugly. It would not do.

    It was with her mood foul that she strolled into the dining room and took the seat opposite her husband. Neither looked at the other, neither acknowledged the other until the soft clinking of porcelain ceased.

    "You didn't come to bed last night," he said quietly, his eyes fixed upon Alina over the rim of his cup. 

    Alina laughed softly. "You are well informed as to my whereabouts, husband."

    "What is so wrong with our marital bed that you refuse to share it with me?"

    "I've no quarrels with the bed, only you."  _ And what you intend the bed be used for. _

    A muscle feathered in his jaw. The cup clattered against the saucer. "Must you always be so difficult,  _ my love?"  _ he growled. 

    Alina smirked. It was simply impossible not to. Only she could rile him up so very fast and successfully. She folded her hands and rested her chin upon them. "Just imagine how impossibly dull your life would be without my 'difficult nature.'"

     Saints, he often wished that he could kill her. Choke the life from her as his shadows invaded her body through every crack and crevice. His queen's screams and pleading for mercy would be the sweetest music to his ears.

    Though he knew already that she wouldn't beg. Or ask for forgiveness. Alina was too much like himself now. The girl who had walked through the doors of the Little Palace was long since gone, warped by shadows.

    "I will never bear you another child," Alina said slowly, deliberately. "Go bother yourself with the one you already have. You may control me, but you'll never control my heart. You ensured that it was ripped out long ago."

    The Darkling tipped his head back and laughed for a long moment. "Such dramatics!"

    She knew that he'd sense the power building up before she unleashed it, but still she threw out the arc of light towards him and fled from the room, her chair on its side.

  
  


    At times, Alina missed the nobody she had been before being claimed by the Little Palace. By him. Maybe the life of a mere cartographer would have been better than this. This... slavery in exotic silks and heavy perfumes. 

    She often contemplated running, but where would she run to? And he would find her, of course. There was nowhere to run when you had a hound of darkness snapping at your heels. And it wasn't easy to think of running, for despite everything... what little of her heart she had left loved him. Those rare moments of love and affection, they were addictive.

_     Enslaved by my own heart,  _ she often thought bitterly.  _ Enslaved to a monster, and you love him still. Fool. _

   The winter solstice celebration drew closer with every passing day until at last, it arrived. Decorations flooded the castle and icicles hung from every banister, real and delicate. 

    Alina loved her dress for the evening. It was of the purest sapphire, embedded with real diamonds upon the bodice. Halter-necked dresses would always remain her favourite, for they spoke of grace and surety, the perfect attire for a queen. Though, she doubted that the queens of days gone by would have approved of the way the dress barely fell to her knees at the front, but grew into a long and glittering train at the back.

    He wanted dramatics, he'd get dramatics.

    They'd all be there, Alina knew that. Even the Fjerdan king and queen, though they both loathed and feared them, the Grisha. The unnatural witches and their power. In the early days of conquering Fjerda, they had burned the Drüskelle, their witch-hunters, the same way they had the Grisha.  _ Now you will never walk with your Djel,  _ the Darkling had said with his eyes shining darkly with hatred, raising his hands to signal that the Inferni could begin.

    And then he had shattered the Ice Court and burned it to the ground, enveloping the area in the Fold. Not even the Volcra could feast on the little ashes that remained.

    Assassins and armies came. Assassins and armies died. One by one, the capitals fell to the Darkling and his monstrous Ravka.

    The crown upon her head drew everyone's attention when Alina walked into the throne room. 

    Of course it would. To the unknowing eye, the circlet upon her brow would look like ivory. Only it wasn't, but human bone. Her final amplifier. 

    She could barely remember the boy anymore. Much less his name. It had been too many years since she'd killed him and taken his very bones. She had loved him once, she thought. Or was it a mere dream?

    It was as she was trying in vain to remember the name of the human that she saw the woman. 

    Alina stopped dead. Sat upon the knees of her husband and king was a young woman in a tight fitting midnight blue dress. And even worse was the fact that the Darkling was smiling, a hand upon her hips.

    Jealousy and rage erupted out of her. She was only half-aware of the beam of light that she threw the wretched woman's way, her screaming as she went blind harsh in Alina's ears. 

    The Darkling said nothing, did nothing as the woman fell away from him, sobbing and scrabbling at her ruined eyes. Alina merely stepped over her body and snarled, her eyes positively glowing golden with anger from within. She grasped the Darkling's chin and forced his head back, eyes meeting her own. Alina was infuriated by the dark amusement in them.

    "I knew it," he murmured. "I knew that you still had a heart, no matter how shriveled up it may be now."

    Alina ignored their audience and straddled his lap. Her fingers fell from his face to his heart. Even now she was surprised to feel a real one beating beneath her hands. 

    "I don't have a heart," Alina told him quietly, "but I am prone to fits of jealousy. You are mine and I am yours. You would do well to remember that." 

    "Might I say that jealousy becomes you, my Alina?" His lips brushed her own, so softly that she barely felt it. Desire flooded her body, her fingers finding the front of his trousers and digging her nails in.  _ Mine,  _ she seemed to say.  _ You may sit upon this throne, but you should remember who sits on the one beside you. This shadow kingdom of yours would not exist without me.  _

    If anyone had any objections as the king bunched his queen's dress up at the hips and unbuckled his belt with his other hand, they kept quiet, feigning disinterest. The chatter didn't dim once as the girl cloaked in light rode her king of darkness. Slow at first, discreet, but then faster and harder, her head tilted back towards the gilded ceiling and obscene moans upon her lips, their audience forgotten as they often were. Time had taught Alina that modesty was a dull thing, that it was much better to scandalise. After all, forever was a long time to stay behind closed doors.

After their encounter in the throne room, they left the party, not bothering with the planned display of light and dark. Why was it even needed? The entire world knew their extremity of their power. And feared it.

 

    It was almost dawn when she awoke. Arms encircled Alina's midriff as if they belonged to a devoted lover. But... what  _ were _ they? Alina could never use the phrase "making love" when they had sex. Love was not involved. Not in the slightest. Their encounters were moments of madness, lust and nothing more. 

    One of the hands slid down to her inner thigh. "Planning on running out on me so soon?" His slightly sleepy voice accused through the darkness. "A pity. I had the most delicious of ways to wake you up in mind." 

    Alina swore internally as her body began to burn once more. At his words or because of the fingers creeping ever closer towards her core, she didn't know. She loathed the effect he had on her stupid, traitorous body. Though her body resented her for it, she grabbed his wrist and wrenched it away.

    "Don't touch me." 

    At first there was silence and Alina thought herself triumphant. But then she squeaked in surprise as his hand shot down between her legs and cupped her. A soft laugh and he breathed into her ear "Why not? It's evident that you enjoy it. Despite all of your hissing." His other hand slid over her stomach, fingers dancing upon her sensitive skin. 

_     Saints,  _ Alina thought, struggling to formulate a line. Or think of any word at all that would make him let her go. To get across how much she hated him.

    "Please," she eventually came up with, voice barely more than a whisper. 

    "Please what?" He murmured, lips finding the line of her jaw through the impenetrable darkness. Alina swallowed hard and let her eyes flutter shut. She allowed him to kiss along her jaw until he reached to her throat. When he found that, he bit on it a little too hard to be merely teasing and playful.  _ Forever marking me as his own,  _ Alina thought darkly. "I'm waiting," he said quietly against the hollow of her throat. "Please  _ what?" _

    "Please just let me go to sleep. I'm tired."  _ Lies. Lies. Lies. _

    "You know that I don't like it when you lie, Alina." Before she could reply, he flipped her from her side and onto her back. Alina forced herself to say nothing as he sat astride her hips, as naked as she was. "And I'm very sure that just now, you lied to me."

     Alina steeled herself as she pushed hard against his bare chest; he didn't move. But then, he did. 

    The kiss was devastating. It shattered her apart, then remade her. And she hated it. Hated him for making her feel such a way. Alina gave in and kissed him back, twining her arms around his neck and drawing him down towards her.  _ Bastard,  _ she cursed as his teeth caught her bottom lip.  _ You bastard. I hate you. I should stab you while you sleep. _

    Did he love her? No. At least, she didn't think so. The day they married had felt like a complete sham. A ceremony of lies. When they had exchanged vows, it was yet another link added to the chain that was already weighing her down. They were bound so utterly and completely. 

    And yet, despite it all, she frequently got jealous whenever he spoke with another woman.  _ You need to decide what you feel, Alina. You can't hate him one day, then contemplate feelings for him on the next. It doesn't work like that. _

    Alina broke the kiss and gasped out "What do you feel for me? About me?"

    He stilled above her. "I don't understand," he said in a clipped tone. "We are married."

    "Indulge me, Alek." 

    A pause and he rolled off her. Alina watched as the lamp next to the bed was lit, the flickering orange flame casting long shadows about the room. The Darkling looked anything but pleased, his inky black hair a mess atop his head. Alina liked him better this way; when there was no one else in the room but them and he didn't bother with the charms of court life.

    "I never should have told you," he growled softly, throwing the covers over himself once more. "Now my name is nothing but a weapon for you to wield whenever you see fit."

    "Your name a weapon? Don't make me laugh; you used to love it when I called you by your true name."

    He still loved the way her lips shaped his name. Not his title or His Majesty, but his real name. The only person alive other than himself that knew his birth name was Alina. 

    Alina shivered and he raised an eyebrow. He supposed that it really was a cold night, and she was hardly dressed appropriately. She was as bare as he was. "Are you cold?" he found himself asking.

    "No."

    Rolling his eyes, he took her arm and tugged her into his embrace, pulling the warm covers around them so it formed a cocoon. Though she grumbled unhappily about it, she snuggled closer into the warmth of his chest. He placed a hand upon the small of her back, distantly pleased that she didn't throw him off.

    "The world changes around us, yet we remain constant. Forever is a long time, Alina. Too long for us to spend the entire time loathing each other," he said quietly into her ear. Alina didn't move. "We only have each other."

_     And Viktoriya,  _ Alina sighed. Though how long would she live? Had she inherited her father's ability, his immortality? Part of her hoped that the girl would simply grow old and die. It was such a horrible thought, but she feared what she might become with such a father. And mother. Viktoriya was the child of monsters and what hope did a child like that have?

    Alina traced a finger up his spine, satisfied when he shivered at her touch. "I am nothing but your obedient servant."

    "You are my servant, yes, but you are not obedient. Not in the slightest." Once more those fingers slid over her thighs and she knew that he was trying to make a point; he was expecting her to shake him off, to snap at him to leave her be. 

    "Just fuck me already and get it over with. I'm tired," Alina snapped, rolling onto her back. Maybe after he was finally satiated he'd leave her alone for a week or two. If she was that lucky. 

    The Darkling paused as if he was going to say something, but then Alina watched his expression turn blank once more as he climbed back onto her and into her. 

  
  


    Alina was summoned to the dining room the very next morning. When she awoke she was predictably alone, but she took no notice as she dressed herself rather than have some terrified maid do it. Her muscles ached and complained at every move she made. Each time Alina winced, she cursed her king and his wildness. His inability to control himself. As long as he was satisfied, she didn't come into it. 

_ I should find a man who can satisfy me like a real person,  _ she thought on the way down to the dining room, mood more than foul.  _ A man who won't think solely about himself and actually consider the woman he is currently fucking. _

__ "You look distinctly grumpy this morning" was his greeting just as she passed through the doors. Alina wanted to throttle him there and then. 

    "Don't talk to me," she ordered, taking the seat furthest from him as usual. The Darkling was best observed from a good distance away.

    This was their existence. And Alina was fairly certain that it would remain so forevermore. 


End file.
